What Is Written
by Angel4Ever16
Summary: Some people are just meant to come together, no matter what choices they've made. YJ/TT Crossover, but only because TT characters you know and love are making their way into the YJ plot. Post-Endgame.
1. Don't You Ever Wonder How We Survive?

There is a theory out there, seemingly widely known, of alternate universes. These universes are all forms of the actual one—but the actual one can be declared at any time by any universe. They are variants of the prior-claimed "actual" universe that depicts different ways that occasions could have unfolded.

Perhaps this is confusing.

Here, we shall proclaim this universe, our universe, as the actual one. Now, we are the starting point. From us on, there are an infinite amount of these universes that differ from our own, based on the choices of individuals.

There are thousands of _choices_ to be made. Some are small; some are large. No matter what size, decisions lead us down deep paths that open up a myriad of more choices to be made. Each one of those _choices_ has its rewards as well as its consequences.

For instance, in one of these universes, you had chosen to prepare a breakfast of pancakes this morning, instead of your normal oatmeal. Since you underestimated the amount of time this would take, you are late for your bus, which means you have to walk to your destination. But, this allows you to find twenty bucks lying on the street.

Of course, there is also a universe in which you do not find the twenty dollars, because the person who dropped the money had decided to buy a new wallet the day before, and her money did not fall out of her purse when she went rifling through it to grab her phone.

But even in those millions upon millions of _choices_ that you and others around you have made, there are some things that just plain have to occur. Some _choices_ have to happen, and some events must come to pass. There is some sort of predetermination of fate.

Some people are just meant to come together, no matter what _choices_ they've made.

* * *

><p>Richard Grayson couldn't help but wonder if there was a universe out there in which his parents didn't fall to their deaths when he was a child. One in which his best friend didn't have to sacrifice himself to save the world. Maybe even one where his little brother didn't meet his fate at the hands of the Joker.<p>

He supposed he was pushing his luck if he asked for all three.

Today, he was just trying to spend some time with his family—the _Batfamily_, as Wally had so lovingly referred to them as. He had taken the day off from studying, Mal was in charge at the Cave, and he had his AI Gretchen scanning the police channels for any abnormal activity.

"I'm as free as a bird," he said to his younger brother through the com.

Robin rolled his eyes up to the figure on top of the skyscraper. "Jump already, Tweety. I'm not waiting forever. Batman wants to meet in five."

Needing no more encouragement than that, Nightwing flung himself off of the building.

It was the strangest thing, thinking about alternate universes. There was probably one reality in which Richard Grayson cowered at the thought of jumping off of a building. But in this one, adrenaline raced through his veins like heroin through a junkie, and in a way, he was the biggest addict of them all.

"Finally," Robin muttered as Nightwing bounded over to him. He couldn't help but be awestruck. Sure, he could fling himself off of the same building and not die, but the way Dick did it…There was a grace, a beauty to it that couldn't be replicated.

"Come on, Boy Wonder," the older hero teased. He ruffled Robin's black hair, before jumping away to prevent the oncoming backlash. "Have a little fun."

"You try explaining fun to Batman," he grumbled, but he followed his brother with a grin in the direction of their mentor.

Batman was on the roof of Wayne Enterprises, silent and unmoving, when they arrived. "You're late."

"Lighten up. You could at least pretend you missed me."

"Batgirl has evidence that Poison Ivy and Catwoman have banded together—"

"Straight to business then, Batsy?"

"Nightwing."

There was the oh-so-loved glare. Oh, he had missed that. It was the perfect reward to a job well done.

The blue striped hero grinned stupidly at his old mentor. "I'm listening."

If there were, in fact, there intriguing alternate versions of reality, was there a life in which Richard had never become Robin; was there a reality in which Bruce had never become Batman? And if there was no Batman, would there be a Catwoman and Poison Ivy to stop?

Would there be another man at this warped form of a family reunion, the long lost brother, never lost? Would a certain redhead beauty still be flying with them, instead of confining herself to a computer screen?

He didn't know that. All Richard John Grayson had was his reality with his family and his friends, and unfortunately, this reality had a set of demons that permeated his thoughts every single day. They all had names, faces, stories.

John. Mary. Jason. Wally.

And that was just to name a few.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! New story here. Short start, I know. I'm classifying this as a YJ/TT crossover, but it's not really one. The Team doesn't meet the Teen Titans, a black hole doesn't suck them up and deposit them in an alternate reality or whatever. (Not making fun of those, I love them, just trying to get my point across.) Basically, this story is my version of Season 3 of YJ, I suppose, but some of the characters we know and love from TT are going to show up in the plot.**

**Let me know what you guys think, and who you wanted to see in YJ but they never showed. I'm guessing there's going to be a lot of Starfires. :)**

**Lots of love,  
><strong>**Liv**


	2. The Truth Never Set Me Free

The rest of the night was rather uneventful. It was no trouble at all for the three of them to find and round up Ivy and Selina, although they were all silently glad that the Siren trio wasn't complete.

Robin had noticed that Nightwing was overly playful—engaging Robin in sparring matches, pitching unnecessary gas pellets in his path. The older hero had even pushed Robin off a couple buildings, only to toss him a grapple line or a birdarang for handhold. Of course, it was almost _required_ that Robin return the favor, but each time he did, Nightwing's laughter echoed through the slums, and he used his training to land right back next to him, ruffling Robin's hair. It wasn't the taunting cackle that used to precede him in battle either. (The one Tim had tried to mimic for weeks until he realized it wasn't working.) It was a real, full laugh, the kind that usually irked Batman, but nothing was said.

The Dynamic Duo had wordlessly agreed that any distraction for the man was welcome, even if it alerted criminals to their location. It had been too long for them.

Ever since Wally's death, they had seen less and less of Richard. Nightwing had pulled back from the Team, and Mal Duncan had been dealing out more of the team assignments and missions. The hero was more and more active in Blüdhaven, the city where crime had fled after Batman had cleansed it from Gotham. Even as a civilian, Richard Grayson had thrown himself into his work, moving fast through his course load at Gotham University. He was on track to graduate early with his undergraduate degree in Criminal Justice and then join the force as a police officer.

When they got back to the Cave, and the masks had come off, Tim found himself staring at his older brother. Although the teasing grin was doing wonders to hide it, there were deep circles under his eyes. He had frown lines as deep as trenches digging into his face. He was more like Batman in the emotional department than he ever had been, a path Tim had never thought his brother would go down.

"Are you staying overnight?" he blurted.

A blush crept up his neck as Tim realized how out-of-the-blue that was. Dick focused on him, his face impassive, before turning to Bruce.

Without missing a beat or glancing up from his computer screen, the man announced, "You're welcome to, of course. I'll have Alfred prepare your room."

"Then sure. Saves me some time—those Zeta tubes take forever."

Tim chuckled at the joke. It was stupid, but it was _Dick_. And even though saying such things were forbidden in Wayne Manor, he had missed having his brother.

Richard felt bad, leaving so early in the morning, when Tim had asked for him to stay. But he had to get back to his apartment to check what his AI Gretchen had picked up in Blüdhaven while he was gone before heading to class. Sure, his class was only at eight, and it was five in the morning now, and the Zeta tubes could get him to the Nightwatch in seconds, but he had no idea what Gretchen could have picked up.

Or, the dream world could have shattered. He sighed. One night with his family was fun, and it helped him get his mind off of things, but he had responsibilities. He couldn't allow himself to fail now, not when he was almost to his goal of taking down crime on both sides. Dick Grayson, detective, by day, and Nightwing, vigilante, by night. He could get people locked up and actually have them stay there.

But this meant sacrificing a bit of quality time with his younger brother. And deep in the back of his mind, he wondered if it was worth it.

_Especially when you never knew if this would be the last time._

* * *

><p>Zatanna was at the Watchtower when the alert came through. The deep space sensors had been picking up a ship just outside the solar system, but it wasn't labelled a threat because it had been on course for the space station just a few light-years away.<p>

But now, as she checked it, it wasn't moving. Whoever it was had stopped the engines. Whether that was on purpose or on accident, she had no idea.

There was another blip on the screen. Something that was moving fast. Too fast to be a comet or some sort of spacial debris. As it got closer, the computer could get a better reading. A small spacecraft, headed on a collision course with Earth.

The magician blanched. What was policy again?

With a snap of her fingers, she began opening a communication channel to the shuttle. "This is Zatanna from Earth. Please state your business in this solar system."

Her brain erupted in cheers. _Not bad for a first time!_

There was no response, so she repeated the message on different frequencies. That also proved fruitless. The proverbial static.

Zatanna opened up a com on all Justice League frequencies, and a call-out alert on the Team's. "Zatanna to all League members," she announced. "We have an unidentified spacecraft headed for Earth. Requesting League response."

Immediately, faces from her team flooded the screen, all questioning. She held up her hand for silence, noticing briefly that Nightwing, in the corner, had civilian clothes on with his mask.

She explained to them in as much detail as she could about the large spaceship that was still motionless at the edge of the solar system before launching into her theory about the emergency pod.

"I believe someone escaped the ship, and they are headed this way. At the rate they're going, they'll crash right into Earth."

Batman spoke up. "Green Lantern, do you recognize the make of either ship?"

Hal Jordan glanced off screen as he replied, "The larger one is a Gordanian transport vessel. The smaller ship resembles a Voorlian racer, but the readings are wrong. Both are from the Vega system, but they shouldn't be this far out of their solar system."

"We will assume they are hostile. Zatanna, stay at the Watchtower and monitor both ships. Batgirl, Red Tornado, Martian Manhunter meet her there. Keep us posted on any changes and set up Watchtower defense in case of attack from the Gordanian vessel."

The readings suddenly spiked. "They've just increased speed," Zatanna reported, her voice awestruck. "This is crazy. They're going to crash for sure now."

"Where and when?"

She tapped on a few keys to find the information being asked of her. "ETA in eight minutes. They should be landing…a few miles out of Happy Harbor. Looks like it could be in the water. Lucky."

"Send the coordinates. Miss Martian, Superboy, Beast Boy and I are close," Nightwing interjected.

"Will do." Zatanna nodded.

Batman spoke, "Superman and I are on our way from Metropolis."

"Rendezvous when you can. Keep us posted Zee. Nightwing out."

"The rest of Justice League and Team should remain on high alert. Get to either the Watchtower or Cave in case of emergency."

Noises of assent were heard as one by one, the heroes signed off. Behind the magician, the Zeta tubes started whirring, announcing heroes as they entered.

Zatanna sighed, eyeing the large blips on the screen, the ships that were invading their solar system. _I guess I'm not going to work tonight._

* * *

><p>As soon as he powered down his wrist computer, Nightwing peeled off his mask and made his way from the alley back into the café where his friends were waiting.<p>

"We have to go," he ordered them.

Megan and Connor exchanged glances before pulling themselves to their feet. Garfield followed suit, excitedly playing with the ring on his left hand. Richard slapped money down on the table to pay for their drinks.

"What did Zatanna say, Dick?" Megan murmured in his ear.

"Emergency. Big. I'll tell you in the car."

The foursome sped to his car and strapped themselves in, Richard taking driver's seat. "Suit up guys. There's an alien craft headed for Earth."

"What kind?" M'gann asked as she shifted into her Miss Martian outfit and retained her Martian skin color. Next to her, Gar was slipping off the ring, a specially designed holo-ring that allowed him to blend into society. Removing it revealed his green skin, fangs, fur and tail. In the front seat, Connor pulled off his sweatshirt.

"There's a Gordanian vessel just outside the solar system. The one that's crashing down Hal recognized as a variation on a Voorlian craft."

"I don't understand. Those are from the Vega system. Why would they be here?" Megan questioned.

"That's what we're going to find out."

The earth suddenly shook around them. The car rumbled around them, as the shock wave passed them. Nightwing grunted as he had to fight to stay in his lane. "Shit."

But then a second explosion rocked the terrain around them, this time louder and with more force. Nightwing pressed the brakes hard, pulling the group forward with inertia. The foursome took a breath in sync and looked out the windows.

Bolts of scarlet spread across the sky, crackling with power.

"What the hell is that?"

A bolt hit the car, spreading across the frame. "Nobody touch anything metal!" Nightwing ordered, removing his hands from the wheel, just as sparks of red danced across it.

"That's not metal," Connor commented.

The vehicle's systems suddenly shut off, and they looked at each other. Remaining silent, they waited until there was no evidence of the crimson electricity.

"I suppose that's as close as we're getting. Let's go."

The heroes got out of the car, racing toward where the blast originated from, the water. Beast Boy shifted into a large cat, outrunning the others. M'gann flew upwards, grabbing Nightwing's arms to tow him along. Connor just ran.

Out in the bay, there was a large, triangular spacecraft with its nose straight down. Half of the ship was out of the water. Nightwing guessed it was impaled into the seabed below. The water wasn't that deep this close to the shore.

He brought up his wrist computer. "The signature matches the signal received by the Watchtower."

"Were you expecting a different rogue spacecraft to crash land into Happy Harbor?" Connor muttered.

Ignoring him, Nightwing continued scanning. "There are traces of xenothium! Holy—that stuffs hard to come by, anywhere in the universe. It's highly unstable—"

A noise on the beach startled the team. They all turned, striking battle positions. Nightwing's sticks twirled in his hands.

A figure was dragging themselves out of the water into the sand. The alien seemed humanoid. Her red hair was long and clung to her wet body. Her clothing was black and leatherlike. It clung to her well defined curves, hiding her skin. Even her hands were covered with gloves. A cough shook her body, but she remained clutching the parcel in her hands.

Nightwing found himself wondering how she had survived. They had barely survived against the sparks in the car, and they were a half mile from the crash site. She had been inside the now-mangled craft, and here she was. Injured, it seemed, but alive and conscious.

He took the initiative, creeping closer to the woman, stealthily. He placed both of his eskrima sticks in his right hand, holding them behind his back. His left hand was raised, to say "We come in peace."

"Hello," he called out, and her head snapped up, revealing another alien trait—her eyes. They were a bright, abnormal green that glowed. Her face was framed by a silver metal section that seemed to be a piece of jewelry. "I am Nightwing, from Earth."

She growled, before groaning. She brought herself into a defensive crouch.

He crept closer, slowly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Nightwing," Connor called behind him, asking a question with the tone of his voice. That alerted the alien to their prescense, and she scampered backwards, her face cringing in an expression of pain. He noticed a superficial cut along her chin as it bled on her neck, the only visible wound. The black suit kept everything else covered.

"It's alright, Superboy. She's injured," he replied, keeping his voice low. "Come on, I won't hurt you. Let me help you."

"_X'hal_," she murmured. "_Gletchurr tur de lenz'a kria."_ Her bright emerald eyes stared into his mask, but she made no move as he edged closer.

With surprising speed and strength, the woman lurched forward, grabbing at him. Nightwing yelped, falling on his back—_how graceful_—before he was cut off by something pressing on his lips.

_Her_ lips. They were wet, immobile, and pressing into his.

Then she released him, only to uppercut at the fast-approaching Kryptonian with a force that sent him into the bay towards her ship. M'gann began flying towards her, Beast Boy in tow, but green beams of light erupted from the woman's eyes toward them.

"If you do not wish to be destroyed, you will leave me alone," the fiery alien being decreed calmly, but with a deep hostility.

Nightwing blanched. She could speak English? _What the hell? _Why hadn't she started with that? What was with that kiss?

She retreated to pick up the parcel, and with a flash of green light, she blasted into the air.

Nightwing touched his earpiece. "Batman?"

"Nightwing," his mentor replied immediately. "We are almost to your location."

Connor, drenched from his time in the harbor, walked up to Nightwing, an expectant look on his face.

"Well, we've got a spaceship here. But the alien driver is gone. You're not going to believe this."

* * *

><p>Koriand'r landed a few miles inland from where she had taken off. They could be back at any moment, and she needed to be ready. She was on a hunt.<p>

She squinted at a sign. For a second, her brain could not bring forth the meaning, and she worried the language transfer had not been completed. The man with the Kryptonian symbol on his chest had come up too fast, and she had not been able to spend as much time engaging in lip contact as she would have liked. But then the words seemed to focus, and relief flooded through her.

_Supermarket_. A large retail market that sells food and other household goods and that is usually operated on a self-service basis.

Good. There had been no problem with the linguistic allocation. She was just exhausted. _And injured_, she added, as her ankle gave out a bit. She had not seen the sun in _so long, _and the rays of sun here were extraordinary—the yellow star was absolutely refreshing. But the black prison leathers were hindering her rate of absorption, and she could not waste time focusing solely on recharging. Unfortunately, that also meant there was no time for the healing sleep she so desperately needed. The Gordanians would be able to repair their ship soon, and she had to be ready.

The supermarket seemed to be a perfect place to start.

Koriand'r clutched her parcel, filled with only items she owned, tightly to her chest and walked into the shop.

"I am looking for sustenance," she announced to the man in the smock. He looked her up and down, lingering too long on her _grebnacks_, before going back to looking at a fragile piece of wood. _Paper_, her brain supplied. A stack of paper bound together. _Book._

"Look around, buttercup," he sighed, irritated. "It's all over the place."

She frowned but turned away from him. Her brain supplied her with the definition of buttercup as being any of numerous plants of the genus _Ranunculus_, having glossy yellow flowers and deeply cut leaves, but the man seemed to have been referring to her, and she was not a type of wildlife. She shrugged it off, holding back a groan of pain at the action.

She was confused by the edible materials on this planet. They seemed to enjoy food that had already been cooked. Of course, she knew of other planets that packaged their food as well, but it just made the decision on what to eat that much more difficult. In the end, Koriand'r just grabbed some items and placed them in her mouth.

The food was not bad. Once you got past the outer shell, it was delicious. Koriand'r ripped open packages and threw it in her mouth. She had not been able to eat this much in years.

"_Oh, X'hal_," she murmured to herself after a particularly enjoyable piece of meat.

"Well," a voice behind her said, "You and I seem to share a passion for beef sticks."

Koriand'r whirled around on her heel, dropping the food, but clenching her parcel tighter. Instinctively, she lowered herself into a catlike battle stance, ignoring the stabs of pain that shot through her body as she did so.

It was the man from before, the one she had received English from. He was interesting. He knew more than one language, something she admired in life forms that did not have her abilities.

"I believed I had made myself clear," she announced plainly.

"I guess I'm just a bad listener," he reasoned.

"I do not wish you to be destroyed."

"I don't think that's going to happen. You see, my friend here," he guestured behind him, where the man she had thrown into the lake was standing. "He's part Kryptonian, and he's not very fond of baths. Not to mention the shapeshifter and the Martian behind you."

Koriand'r's eyes widened. The Warlords of Okaara would be disappointed in how she let her guard down. On instinct, she summoned her green energy into her hands.

And screeched in pain. She clamped down on it before she could show more weakness, but she still sunk to her knees. Her breath came in great heaves. The inhibitor gloves. Just another gift from the Gordanians. The crash land had been enough to shatter the mask that had prevented her from creating eyebeams, but gloves had remained latched to her wrists.

Nightwing froze. He had seen the electric current run through her body. That didn't make sense. He glanced down, to where her food was laying on the ground. She hadn't stormed through town, trying to kill everyone. She had landed alone in that ship, travelling away from the larger transport vessel only to raid the local supermarket.

Then she snapped her head up, eyes glowing with a dangerous emerald light.

With a feral battle cry, she shot an eyebeam at his chest, sending Nightwing flying back into Connor, who knocked over a rack of chocolates. As he pulled himself up, his earpiece beeped, and he ignored it. The Justice League's need for a report could wait.

Beast Boy shifted into a monkey, dodging the eyebeam, before launching at her. He landed a punch to her face, and wound up to throw another one, but she caught his fist in her hand.

"Woah!" yelled the shifter as he was thrown with incredible force into the freezer section.

M'gann tossed a shelf of baked goods at the alien, who swatted it away with a casual flick of her hand. Eyebeams surged towards her, but M'gann dodged them easily. By this time, the other three heroes had time to recover. Realizing she was surrounded again, Koriand'r growled.

Then she burst through the ceiling in a flash of green light.

She landed on the roof, stumbling as she did so. _X'hal_, she was sore. Her ankle cracked painfully, and the redheaded alien moaned. It seemed she had only provided a quick solution, as an eagle soared out of the hole she had created, followed by a Martian and Kryptonian. Lastly was the man with the blue bird on his chest.

She just had to escape them, but she didn't have the energy. They were going to be in danger, and it was all her fault. Koriand'r frowned. If only the spacecraft had not malfunctioned, she could've brought the Gordanians away from this planet and these people.

Something flashed in the sunlight, and her head snapped to the side.

Nightwing watched as she looked around, trying to find the source of the batarang, while a cut sprouted on her cheek.

The crimson blood matched her bright hair.

He sprung forward, between his teammates and the alien. "Wait!" he called out, making eye contact with Batman, who landed next to him, Superman on the other side. Batman nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Instead, he faced the alien.

Her eyes had dimmed, and they portrayed a sense of confusion. Nightwing suddenly had a thought, that no one had helped her out before.

"Why will I be destroyed if we don't leave you alone?"

She blinked at him, taking a hesitant step back, only to hiss in pain. The ankle must be injured. Her jaw tightened. "They will come to this planet for my reacquisition."

"You're their prisoner," Batman clarified.

"Prisoner?" she spat. "I am no prisoner." Nightwing could tell that was a source of prize for the warrior alien. Her voice was lower, more defeated, when she continued. "I am, as you say, a _prize_. The Gordanians were on their way to return me to the Citadel to live out my days as their servant."

"What is the Citadel?" Superman asked.

A bitter smile coated her features, and they all knew. _Not nice._

Suddenly, everyone's coms went off. "Zatanna to the League. I have bad news, and I have bad news."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! Chapter two is here! I'm really enjoying this story. I have so many ideas! Unfortunately that means I'm really neglecting When Lightning Strikes…which I kind of vowed to finish haha. **

**Don't forget to review ladies and gents! I'd love to hear feedback, even if you want to criticize. Actually, I'd probably enjoy that. I'm thinking of taking this story out of the crossover section since it's not technically a **_**crossover**_**, it's just character stealing. It might get me more reads & reviews. I'd still like to know—which TT characters do you want to see in the YJ universe?**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Cheers,  
><strong>**Liv**


	3. Meet Me In the Aftermath

"Come to the lab after school. Your mother and I need to speak to you."

The message clicked off after that. No goodbyes, no spoken words of affection from father to son, just the click of a message ending. When prompted, he deleted the brief message from his voicemail box.

Victor Stone made his way back into the cafeteria, sitting between his best friends, Ron Evers and Sarah Simms.

"Did dear ole dad call?" Ron said, biting into his sandwich.

"You betcha."

"What'd he want?" This time, Ron's voice was muffled through the bite of sandwich.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "_Jesus, _Ron. Chew, swallow, and then talk." She turned to her friend. "What happened, Vic?"

"Nothin' much. He wants me to go to the Labs after school is all."

"But we 'av practice," protested Ron.

"Ya know my dad doesn't care," Vic said, chewing a bite of his burger. "Tell Coach I'm sick or somethin' alright?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "But it's football. You love football practice. Tell the ole man to fuck off."

"Ron, just stop," Sarah scolded. "You know how Vic's parents are."

Victor just shrugged, trying to act like Ron's words weren't true. It wasn't too big of a deal. Sure, football was his favorite sport, but he would have practice the next day too.

Sarah leaned in to him. "Have you told them about the Wayne Tech deal?"

Though he had long ago given up his smart-guy appearance for the jock experience, Victor Stone was a closet inventor. Thanks to his parents' involvement in S.T.A.R. Labs, the senior had been the test subject for various intelligence enhancement projects. These experiments worked, making Victor one of the smartest eighteen-year-olds in his age group across the world. This was unknown to his teachers, though, as he maintained the most perfectly average GPA in the school.

When he was alone, as he usually was in his house, Victor could allow his intelligence to shine. He was a computer programmer and an amateur inventor. He had submitted various projects to S.T.A.R. Labs under the alias Vinny Wolfman, mostly computer work. But his last development, the blueprints for a holo-ring, had been rejected by the labs, and picked up by Wayne Tech for quite a large sum of money.

"Hell no. Sarah, c'mon, they'd love that too much."

"Exactly," she countered. "You could have something to talk about."

"There's no way I'm tellin' them. Just forget it," he said, focusing back on his burger.

"Fine," she said, but her eyes stayed locked on him. Vic was one of her best friends, and she felt bad that his home life was so awful. All she wanted to do was help, but she couldn't force him to reconcile with his parents. That was a step he would have to take on his own, hopefully, before it was too late.

* * *

><p>Victor thanked the bus driver before he stepped onto the curb. He pulled the hood of his gray sweatshirt up over his long, dark hair to cover himself from the rain.<p>

If he was being honest, he could've ran to the Labs faster than it took to ride the bus. Then he could've got in some exercise as well. He wasn't afraid of the potential thugs in the city, because someone his size was rarely afraid of attackers. But he was putting off speaking to his parents. He already knew what they wanted to talk about.

He gave a swift nod to the receptionist, who smiled and waved at him. Most of the S.T.A.R. Labs employees knew him on a first name basis. As a kid, Victor had spent more time in the building than he had with kids his own age.

When he got to his dad's office, there was a sticky note on the door. Blue. That meant it was for him.

_Victor_

_Meet us in Lab 8._

Again, another brief message. Victor suppressed an eye roll. Even with genius status, he still couldn't shake the streak of teenage rebellion deep inside. Plus, that particular lab was all the way down in Sub-Basement 3. That was a long walk.

Victor sighed. He needed to suck it up and get it over with. So, with a hop, skip, and a jump down the stairs, he was in the sublevel basement three. He knocked three times on the door, before one of the assistants let him in.

"Victor," his father, Silas Stone, greeted tersely. "Glad you could come."

"Yeah," he replied, looking around the room. They were in the observation chamber with four other scientists in lab coats. Down in the actual lab was his mother, Elinore, and she was setting up some equipment in front of an upright circular machine in the center of the room. "What are you working on?"

Silas grinned, unable to control his excitement. He was like a kid in that way. "This is your mother's big project—an inter-dimensional portal."

Victor blanched. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Oh, don't you worry. We've designed a safety mechanism—see it there?" he pointed to a box on the top of the upright ring in the lab below. "It inhibits the flow of the—well, let's just say this portal will be one-way, thanks to that box."

Victor lifted a brow as Silas got back to typing on his computer. Normally his father would jump at the chance to explain any sort of science to his son, but today, it seemed the portal was more important than that.

He pressed his finger to the com. "Hey, mom, I'm here." His voice was projected into the lab, where his mother looked up to wave. She resumed her work right away.

With a sigh, he plopped himself in an unused chair. They were in _science_ mode. What was the point of coming to the lab if they weren't going to talk to him about his flawlessly average grades? He had skipped football practice for this!

"Alright, Elinore, are you guys good down there?" Silas spoke into the mic.

Her response was broadcasted in the observation room. "Yes, dear. We're ready to go. Flip the switch in three…two…one—"

She was cut off by the shaking of the earth around them. Victor leapt to his feet, startling the scientists around him who were all checking equipment.

"What the hell was that?" Elinore breathed.

Her husband was already typing furiously into the computer. "An explosion, not an earthquake…the epicenter was in Happy Harbor. It is safe may continue."

"Alright, everyone recheck your radiation suits," another man ordered. With a quick check of the nametag, Victor realized he was Dr. Staff, one of the scientists he knew as a kid. He could barely recognize him.

"We're good down here. Start the experiment in three…two…one…now."

Silas and the team in the observatory began furiously typing and flipping switches. It was almost comical to Victor.

"Now, Victor, watch the portal," Silas urged.

The eighteen-year-old raised his eyebrow curiously, wondering what his father had in mind for him, but stood and faced the windows. The ring began to fill with a dark mist that billowed like flames. It was mesmerizing. When the portal completely filled the hoop, Silas spoke into the microphone again, "Portal established. Begin transport of cameras."

Victor watched as Elinore and her team began leading some heavy equipment towards the gateway. There seemed to be a drivable camera tripod, as well as environmental sensors that were hooked up to a transmitter.

"Now, as long as we keep the portal open, we'll be able to keep in contact with the cameras as well as the sensors," Silas explained. "Unfortunately, whatever we send in, we can't get back because of our one-way safety box, but that's just a bump in the road."

"Quite an expensive bump," Dr. Staff commented.

Silas looked irritated at his colleague's negativity. "Yes, it is."

His next words were cut off by another explosion, this one longer than the first. The ground shuddered monstrously. Victor grabbed onto the shelving unit next to him, which was bolted to the floor. Worried cries erupted through the lab and observatory.

Silas's fingers were once again pounding away on the computer's keyboard, when he leapt back in shock. "_Ouch!_" he roared.

Victor glanced over to him, and his eyes widened. Red sparks were dancing across the console. He had never seen anything like that before. Then a scarlet flash erupted in the lab, and all of the people in the observatory looked down. The group of scientists that had been near the portal were all lying on the floor, seemingly blown away from the gateway in an explosion.

"Shit."

And Victor, who had never heard his father swear before, followed his gaze to the portal. The charred remains of the one-way locking mechanism stared back at him.

"Fuck," he echoed, and then realization hit. "_Mom!_"

The teen's muscles snapped into motion. Ignoring his father's calls behind him, he rushed out of the observatory, letting the door slam shut behind him. He followed the stairs down and around to the titanium door that would lead him into Experimental Laboratory 8.

Only it was locked. The monitor on the wall bleeped on before him, revealing a radiation warning.

Victor grunted in response and grabbed a screwdriver from a cart of lab equipment. "I'll just let myself in." He unscrewed the keypad that locked the doors and grinned. Unbeknownst to his father, he had created a lock similar to this one a few years back that had been picked up and modified by S.T.A.R. It took him all of thirty seconds to detach the commuter wire and reattach that to the carotid cord. Then, he created a spark between the mislatch and temporary wires, and the door began to open.

Still holding the screwdriver in his hand, the athlete leapt to his feet and ran through the doorway. "Mom!" he called out, his tone frantic. The scientists were all rising to their feet, slowly and painfully.

"Victor," she moaned, and he rushed toward her, pulling her gently to her feet. "You shouldn't be in here. The radiation will—"

The intercom blasted voices from the observatory. "_Look out_!"

Everyone looked toward the portal to see a huge, hideous creature tumbling out of it. It was at least ten feet tall with six appendages, four of which were claws. Its hunchback added a foot in height, and hair coated its body haphazardly. Someone in the observatory must've pressed the alarms, because they began blaring. The creature cowered in pain from the noise, but then roared. It turned its anger toward the scientist closest to him, and buried his claw deep into the chest of the young blonde researcher.

In a split second, Victor knew he was the only hope for the brains-without-brawn scientists in the room. They had been relying on the locking mechanism to keep them safe, and that had failed. There were _so many people._

He rushed the creature as it flung the woman off of its claw. After dodging a second talon, Vic leapt up and stabbed him straight in the shoulder with the screwdriver that he had managed to hold onto. With a roar of pain, the otherworldly being swatted at the eighteen year old, sending him flying into the wall.

Victor groaned as he hit the fortification. Something dislodged in his chest, and he felt a crack. He assumed it was a rib, possibly two. His ears rang, as if they had their own alarm.

"_VICTOR!" _His mother's scream echoed around the room. His eyes jumped up; she was running towards him, worried about his well-being.

And the creature turned toward the shriek. With one motion, she was impaled, straight through, from her lower vertebrae and out her navel. The radiation suit was easily penetrated.

Victor couldn't bring himself to speak, even breathe. He coughed, spluttered. Elinore's blood fell on the tiles. Drip, drop. Time paused, as if to give him time to think.

He grabbed the counter next to him and rose to his feet. In the drawer next to him, there was a gas line hose. He pulled it out, and searched for a Bunsen burner. In between motions, he could hear the terrified screams behind him. He assembled the device and lit the flame. The ring stand was next—he tied a cloth to the end. Then, Victor lit the cloth with the burner. Instantly, the scorching smell inhabited his nasal cavity.

For his sake, he prayed the creature was flammable.

Victor bounded over the counter and gave himself a running start. With a leap perfected in years of track, he launched himself onto the creature's back. A claw swatted at him, but Victor easily ducked. He raised his arm swiftly over the shoulder of the creature, and stabbed the ring stand into his chest.

A second talon swiped at him, causing him to fall onto his back with a crack. Through his own agony, Victor smiled when the beast bellowed. But then the thing was moving in his direction again.

Victor scrambled, his fingers grappling for any sort of handhold on the smooth tiles. But there was none. The claw clamped down on his left leg and he knew it was all over. He was pulled closer to the creature. Another claw clamped on his right arm. Cracks and pops filled the room as his bones were crushed.

And the being pulled him. Ripped him apart.

In that moment, pain was all he knew. He was dying—his mother was already dead. Victor's muscles ached, and he could feel reality slipping away as the blood rushed out onto the stark white lab floors. He didn't see the bright light, leading him away. He didn't see his life flash before his eyes. All that the eighteen year old could see as he floated away was the last breath his mother took before she died.

And his vision went black.

* * *

><p>Artemis Crock was sharpening her arrows on the living room floor.<p>

It wasn't uncommon for Paula to see her doing that, even before the incident with the Reach. Rather, the ferocity in which she completed her task was the strange part. Each stroke was precise and strong. But Paula knew the recurring motion was the only thing holding Artemis to this reality, this cruel, mindless reality. She could feel her slipping away.

In the six months after Wally's death, Artemis had moved back in with her mother. Paula could remember the surprise she felt, when her youngest was standing outside her door, bags in hand.

"I need to stay here," she had croaked. Tears were threatening to spill over onto the already red-stained cheeks, but Artemis was good at suppressing things, especially emotions. So they never fell in front of her mother.

She had also taken up hero work again. Full-time. But not with the Justice League. Paula couldn't figure out if it was because she blamed them, or if seeing the faces of the living heroes was just too painful for the young woman.

The only one ever allowed over for long periods of time was Nightwing.

Paula could guess why. He would arrive in through the window, and then they would spent hours locked in Artemis's bedroom, murmuring quietly. And when they came out, the man would be putting his mask back on, but Paula could still see the red stains on his cheeks.

Even though she had given it up, the older woman was still a fighter. It was harder to quit cold-turkey than she thought. So, hiding it from her daughter, Paula had kept in shape.

Just in case. Just in case Lawrence came back to steal Artemis away. Just in case one of her old enemies wanted revenge. Just in case one of her daughters needed her.

Even now, as she sat in her chair, knitting quietly, there were a few knives and a handgun hidden in her wheelchair, all within grabbing distance. As a disabled woman living alone, she had though they were necessary. Even the knitting needles themselves could be used as projectiles.

A rapping sound came from the door.

Paula placed her knitting in her lap, her arms moving to the wheels on her chair.

Artemis held out her hand. "No, I've got it," she insisted, before pulling herself to her feet. She allowed herself a quick stretch, and then made her way to the door.

From the living room, Paula could hear the click of the door unlocking, and then the squeal as it opened. They really needed to put some WD-40 on those hinges.

"Artemis."

It was a male's voice, strangely familiar. She just couldn't place it.

"Mom?"

There was panic in her daughter's voice. It was strange to hear. As quickly as she could, she wheeled herself around the coffee table, and over to the door, curious as to what was causing her daughter so much stress. She put a hand over one of her hidden knives.

And then she was frozen. It was _him._ From the spikey red hair, to the green eyes and freckles, he was all there. It was his lean body, and muscular frame. It was the man they had all been mourning. The one that had a men in leotards over to talk to her Artemis, to which Artemis would never speak, beyond a one- or two-word response. The one she had been living with, going to school with _before_. The man who had come over for Christmas last year. The one who had cleared out the refrigerator in this small apartment more than once.

The one they had thought was dead for the past six months.

"Mom? Is he real?"

She had been seeing him, Paula realized. Possibly in her dreams, or even when her eyes were open. Her tone was so fragile, something the blonde had repressed ever since Lawrence had handed her that bow. She needed reassurance, and that hadn't happened since before Paula went to prison.

"Yes," the mother whispered, tears forming in her eyes. Maybe her youngest daughter would get the happy ending she deserved. "He's real."

"Oh _god,_" Artemis whimpered, stepping forward into him, his embrace. His muscular arms encircled her, and she curled into him, her hand splaying out on his chest. "Wally, you _bastard_."

His chuckle rumbled through his chest, and she melted as she listened to it. "I know, beautiful. I know." The speedster's voice lowered to a whisper, "I'm so sorry."

In that moment, Paula was glad to be in the universe she was in. Her Artemis deserved to love someone.

"I couldn't find you," he kept whispering, tears streaming down his face. "I was searching for _so long_. I just _couldn't_ find you."

And Wally West deserved to live.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! I'm feeling very iffy about that first section. It took five pages of Word to introduce and then kill Victor Stone, but I feel like it should have been longer. After I finish hashing everything out, I might rewrite this. I also wanted to make this chapter longer, but I'm thinking about three thousand words is going to be my goal for each chapter. Let me know your thoughts. **

**But Wally's baaaaack! And this is really why I think we deserve a season three (I mean, among other reasons.). You can't just kill Wally like that.**

**As always, tell me what you think and who you want to see!**

**Cheers,  
><strong>**Liv**


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